


A Comedy of Sorts

by padfoots_prose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:20:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padfoots_prose/pseuds/padfoots_prose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily has a habit of getting herself into stupid situations. Fortunately, James has a habit of getting her out of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Comedy of Sorts

"That kid's a prat, you know."

"James!" Lily admonished, glancing at the stairs up to the dormitories, where the sound of footsteps was still fading away.

They both waited, Lily with bated breath, to see if James's exclamation had been heard. From the sound of a door slamming up above them, she thought that maybe it might've been. Well, that was ten minutes of work down the drain. And cheering up the silly first years girl's sodding, stupid tears hadn't exactly been a walk in the park.

Lily turned to glare at her boyfriend, who was lounging in an armchair by the fire, smirking as he read an abandoned Divination textbook. He was undoubtedly conscious of the fierce glower that was fixed on him, but was nonetheless acted utterly nonplussed. His gaze flicked up to meet Lily's for a second and he raised an eyebrow as if asking,  _What did I do?_ , before looking away again. So calm and relaxed. Meanwhile, Lily was fuming.

Letting out an angry noise, she pulled herself up from where she'd been kneeling on the ground to talk to the girl, storming over and snatching the book out of James' hands. With a glance at its cover –  _A Handful of Hope: How Palmistry Could Change Your Life –_ Lily threw it to the floor, resisting the temptation to stomp on it for good measure.

"What was that for?" James asked, nodding to the book, now sprawled on the carpet.

Lily pursed her lips, hands fisted by her sides.

In a strange, less-angry part of her mind, Lily could sense how they must have looked in this moment: James, relaxed and laid back, and her, so obviously not. Him, neutral and passive and mild, and her, blazing and fiery-mad. They were ridiculous together, really. Complete opposites. Sometimes, she had no idea how they made things work.

"I'm angry at you," she growled out through a clenched jaw.

"I know that," James nodded, "but why are you taking it out on the book?"

"Divination is ridiculous.  _That_  hardly counts as a book, let alone real literature. You shouldn't be wasting your time reading it. I was doing you a favour."

"But- why were you doing me a favour if you're so angry at me?"

It was a persisting curiosity of Lily's: whether James just enjoyed terrorising her, or if he genuinely gained something from every infuriating exchange.

Making another sound of frustration, she whirled around with a flourish and hurried away to the furthest chair from James', flinging herself into it with another undignified noise. Even with her back turned, Lily knew that all James did was watch on with that same irritating smirk. The idiot. Knowing him, he probably  _did_ get some sort of sick excitement from their arguments. Probably enjoyed seeing her all red in the face and glaring. Made him feel as if it was just like old times, when they happily despised each other. He'd barely changed since then anyway. Was still a bloody, obnoxious, arrogant, toad-faced-

"Besides," James said, "Lauren Carter, that girl – she  _is_  a prat. She's the one who dipped Caitlin Brown's ponytail in ink last week, just because Caitlin beat her in a Charms test. And she hexed Robin Sanders for calling that Ravenclaw girl – uh- Martha Luxley, I think – pretty. Said he ought not to be 'fraternising with the enemy' – her words, not mine."

Lily stayed turned away, expression still held stiffly in a frown. Clearly, James thought he could make it all up to her by throwing these names left, right and centre. All stupid showing off because he  _knew_  it was a weak-point for her and sure, maybe she did extra patrols and got to all the meetings with McGonagall and Dumbledore on time, but  _oh_ , if  _wonderful_  James Potter knew the names of  _bloody everybody_  then he was just heralded as a God-awful  _saint._ The pig-headed, slimy, little arse-

"Lauren Carter also tied together all the ribbons in Lucy Kirk's trunk just before she went home. You remember how Lucy came crying to us that morning, because her stepdad was picking her up from the station and he'd been told to look for the little girl with blue ribbons in her hair? She'd been so nervous about meeting him, really wanted to look like the angel her mother had promised she was – and she is an angel, Merlin, have you ever heard her say one mean thing? It's unnerving, almost – and then that  _prat_ went and tangled up all her ribbons the night before she had to leave. Poor Lucy woke us both up at the crack of dawn to deal with that. An awful shock for everyone involved, I'm sure. Didn't help that she'd been expecting just to find you in your bed. Or that I'd been naked from the waist up."

Lily was having difficulty keeping her frown in place.

It wasn't that James was forgiven – there was no excuse for a Head to ever call anyone a prat, at least when they were still within hearing distance – but he was... getting there. Definitely making some solid progress. If only he didn't have to be quite so damn show-offy about it.

James sighed, "That was a good day, huh," and Lily could hear him shifting where he sat.

Glancing over, Lily tried not to smile at the lazy grin on James' face. He'd twisted to sit sideways on the armchair, legs hiked over one arm with his silly sock-clad feet dangling absently in the air, and his back crowded up against the other arm. His head was lolling sideways, nestled into the corner between the chair's arm and the headrest. The angle looked awkward and uncomfortable, but somehow he managed to make it work, tucking his whole lanky frame into the compact space, arms hanging to the sides with his stretched-out fingers almost comically close to the floor. He opened one eye to peer at Lily, clearly checking to see if his antics were working, and winked when he caught her staring.

Stupid, charming bastard.

"You can't call her a prat again," Lily said sternly, leaning forward to hold James' gaze.

He lifted his head and opened both eyes to look back at her seriously. Slowly, making a show of his reluctance, he nodded.

"And try not to show off so much about the name thing," Lily added. "You know it's a sore spot for me."

James laughed, "Stop making the only positive contribution I can make. Sure thing, captain," and gave a mock salute.

Lily raised her eyebrows. James dropped his hand quickly, gesturing for her to continue.

"And stop arguing with me for the sake of it. It makes me grumpy."

James didn't react, keeping his expression politely dubious.

" _Fine_. It makes a little more than grumpy. Annoyed. Maybe."

"Maybe a little more than annoyed," James suggested, still with that ridiculously polite expression.

Lily tilted her head to side, hair hanging messily over her shoulder and one hand resting by her chin.

" _Really_? You think this is a good time to push it?"

A wicked grin immediately curved on James' lips, "Lily, baby, with me? You can push it  _anytime_."

Lily just stared.

"I don't know why I bother," she finally said.

And she stood up and followed Lauren's path upstairs. Someone was going to have to deal with her. By the looks of things, it probably wasn't going to be James.

...

Christmas Eve Dinner that night was a depressingly sombre affair. What with first year Lauren still grumpy at James and the other first years stolidly ignoring her, the two second year twins talking softly to each other and the third to sixth year Gryffindors scattered at safely non-communicative distances along the table, it was difficult for Lily to feel as if she'd done a great job at uniting her house in her first few months as Head Girl. James, of course, was utterly ignorant of the uncomfortable vibe emanating from the table, chatting loudly with Sirius and Remus in the middle of a long, empty stretch of bench. All three boys had their plates loaded with food, apparently enjoying the lack of competition for the best puddings and pies.

"Lily," Sirius said through a mouthful of turkey as soon as she was within hearing distance, "You 'ave  _got_  to try 'dis 'ranb'ry sauce. It's del'cious!"

With a disdainful look, Lily stopped to stand behind James.

"Thanks, Sirius," she replied, "I'll keep that in mind." Tapping James on the shoulder, she waited for him to twist to face her before adding, "Grab me a plate, will you? And don't get me anything that's in his mouth."

Remus laughed and James smiled, saying, "Aye aye, captain."

"'Captain'?" she could hear Sirius mimic. "Is 'at wha' you call 'er in bed?"

Rolling her eyes, Lily tried her best to block out James' reply. Whatever it was, she was sure that she didn't want to hear it. Instead, she approached Lauren Carter, sliding onto the empty stretch of bench between her and the other first years, who immediately ceased their muttered conversation when they saw Lily sit down.

"Hello," she said, hoisting a smile onto her face. "I couldn't help but notice that all the Gryffindors are pretty spread out for dinner tonight. And, well, it's Christmas Eve. Shouldn't we all be together, and- and friendly for this? It's awful that we can't all be with our families, but we have each other, right? Maybe, just for tonight, we could try to forget old grudges and just be a family. How does that sound?"

The first years were all looking nervous, probably too scared to respond to the scary Head Girl sitting with them and trying (horribly) to make peace. Standing up, Lily caught the eye of the small group of third years further down the table who'd been listening.

Feeling both nervous and resolute when she noticed all eyes of her house were on her now, Lily raised her voice and called, "Come on, Gryffindors," looking both ways down the table. "Let's all sit together. Otherwise those pigs in the middle will take all the good food."

Sirius made an indignant, pig-like noise at the insult, and a few people laughed. Even the exiled Lauren Carter managed a smile. Lily offered Lauren her hand, trying not to think about just how many times that day she'd been forced to comfort this girl. But everyone deserved to be happy today. It was Christmas Eve, for crying out loud!

By the time Lily returned, the space on the bench near James, Sirius and Remus had all filled up with migrating Gryffindors, and so Lily sat down at the end, next to Lauren, forcing her lips to stay tight in a smile as the girl started talking about the gifts she was expecting for Christmas.

"My aunty says she's getting me a new saddle for my pony back home, he's called Winston, and apparently she can do a spell on the saddle so that it'll do up all by itself. I had Winston back before I knew I was a witch, of course, my Daddy got him for me when I was little, but he does need some new equipment. And my uncle, he says he's got me the most beautiful dress in Britain. I don't know when I'll wear it yet, but maybe he'll organise a ball for my twelfth birthday, like my Daddy did when I turned ten, and then I can invite all my friends and they can see the manor."

Even with Lauren between them, Lily could sense the bitter stares coming from the other first years. Merlin, did this girl always talk this way? Combined with all the nasty pranks James said she had pulled, it was a wonder to Lily that she had any friends at all to invite to the manor.

"What about your parents?" Lily politely asked, reaching for her goblet of pumpkin juice, "What are they getting you."

"Oh, they- they can't... get me anything," Lauren murmured, and Lily glanced up just in time to see James' alarmed look from far across the table, his head shaking fiercely.

"Not to worry," Lily said, trying to recover, trying to move on from what was obviously a touchy subject, "What about your siblings – or your cousins or grandparents or pets – do they have any gifts for you?"

Merlin, Lily wasn't good at this. Not like James was. She didn't know people's names and their pasts and what subjects to avoid and how to talk around things without being obvious. From the middle of the crowd of Gryffindors, she could still see James' distressed gaze from the corner of her eye. It felt good, knowing he had faith in her.  _Not_.

"Hey, who wants some of this peach crumble?" James called, his smile directed at Lauren. She perked up immediately, beckoning frantically and calling, "Me! I do! Hand it down here!"

Lily winced as the boy on Lauren's other side had to duck almost underneath the table, trying to avoid being hit by her wildly waving arm.

"Sorry," Lily mouthed, but the boy just shot her a dirty look. Apparently, he also knew that asking about Lauren's parents was not allowed.

Lily felt like an idiot.

Despite her success in bringing the house together, Lily was hard-pressed to find conversation as dinner wound to a close. The first years beside her had taken pity on Lauren and adopted her back into their group. Probably just out of generosity because it was Christmas, Lily thought, if their sour expressions as Lauren went on and on about her hypothetical ball were anything to go by. Right now, Lily felt as if the best option for her would be for the bench to turn into quicksand and neatly, silently, swallow her away. She could return to the Common Room later. Preferably when it was empty, with no first years around to glare at her.

But the bench stayed resolutely solid, and Lily was left to silently contemplate her own spectacular idiocy as the desserts finally disappeared and people started standing up to leave. As much as Lily hated to admit it, this was why she needed James – both as a fellow Head and to just be there for her. Because Lily had a habit of getting herself into stupid situations, not out of meanness but simply out of ignorance. She just didn't  _know_  things about other people. It was why she was so good at throwing insults, but sort of awful at just being polite.

James was  _great_  at being polite. He was stupidly charming and unbelievably adaptable, able to talk his way out of almost anything. Able to lie in an instant, whether it was coming up with an alibi for Sirius and himself, or explaining why an assignment was late. Before now, Lily had never envied those qualities – she'd never  _needed_  to lie, never  _needed_  to charm her way out of trouble. But now...

"You're thinking too hard."

Lily jumped, relaxing a bit when James sat down on the bench beside her, his back to the table so he could look her in the eyes, one hand resting comfortingly at the small of her back.

"Am I?" she asked, letting out a shaky breath as she caught sight of Lauren, leaving the Hall with the other first years.

"Yes, you are. Your eyebrows are furrowy, your lips are pouty and don't even get me started on your eyes."

"What's wrong with my eyes?"

"Nothing," James smiled softly. "Only Padfoot's told me off countless times for the sonnets I have composed about your eyes. They're pretty embarrassing sonnets, and I'd hate for you to witness one. Not now, at least, while you still think I'm all smooth and cool."

Lily giggled, "I don't think I've ever thought you were smooth and cool."

"Oh, well," James shrugged, "worth a shot."

His hand ran up her back and down again in a silky, soothing stroke, and Lily let her eyes flutter shut, leaning back against James' palm.

She'd never expected to feel like this with him: to feel supported, comforted by him. The heat, she'd been able to comprehend. It was difficult to come to terms with, but once she'd acknowledged it for what it was, Lily hadn't been able to deny the bone-deep  _chemistry_  between them. But for a while she'd been worried, scared that that was all there was: just heat. And mutual attraction – no matter how deep it went – wasn't enough to make a relationship last.

Only this- this was something beyond that. This wasn't about James making her heart pound or her face flush. It about him doing the opposite. With just a hand on her back and a few gentle words, he could soothe her far more than anyone else ever could. It was a delicate equilibrium, a perfectly imperfect balance that they'd established, one that maybe, if they tried, they could stay in indefinitely.

For every part of James that annoyed Lily and set her into a fiery frenzy, there was a part that cooled her down, bringing her back to the ground. For every part of James that joked and teased, there was a part that smiled just-so: solid and honest. For every part of James that was missing – every lesson he hadn't yet learned, every rule of etiquette he refused to obey – there was a part of Lily that he filled. A name he could supply, a past he could fill in when she just  _didn't know_.

They  _worked_  together – that was what this was. Slipped and slid by each other so effortlessly, like the silk of a dress against the cotton of a suit: catching only sometimes, rough and tugging for a moment, and then falling into that smoothness again, that complementarity. They  _worked_ , that was all. Worked in every sense of the word.

"You're good for me," Lily murmured. "I probably don't say that enough."

"I don't think you've ever said that to me," James pointed out. "But I appreciate it. I'll look forward to hearing it again."

Lily laughed, easy and sweet.

"Come on," James said, standing up and offering her his hand.

"Where are we going?" Lily asked.

"Your room, I hope. Everyone in your dorm is still away, right? And terrifying first year girls who come looking for you in the early hours of the morning is pretty much a full time job. I'd hate to miss the chance to be half-naked in your bed again – or fully-naked, for that matter."

Lily frowned. James chuckled, slipping a hand around her waist. The sleeve of his robes caught for a second against the back of hers and Lily felt the pull of material, the scratch of friction- and then it came unstuck, and James' arm was snug around her waist.

"But we need to go to Common Room, first," he continued, "so that I can apologise to that prat, Lauren Carter. Nobody deserves to called a prat by the Head Boy. At least not when they're in hearing distance."

Oh.

Lily glanced at James with a smile, which he returned warmly, a sparkle in his eye.

So maybe they weren't that different after all.


End file.
